


And I'll Be Holding Onto You

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: Golden Chains From Star to Star [1]
Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: M/M, because Adam lives, just a oneshot, slight AU, some descriptions of gore/grossness, takes place directly after the first film
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the game, Lawrence keeps his promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I'll Be Holding Onto You

**Author's Note:**

> I have been sucked into chainshipping and I don't know what to do with myself. So here, have 5.2k of angsty n fluffy chainshipping junk. Takes place directly after the first film, slight AU since Adam lives, and mostly focuses on their recovery and building the foundation for their relationship.

Lawrence Gordon is weak on his feet—well, technically speaking, _foot_. He stands before the large rusted door that very nearly became his tomb. Not far behind him, Amanda stands with her hands on the handles of John’s wheelchair. They watch him from a distance; John’s eyes are tired and his whole body is weak, but he is smiling somehow. Amanda looks less pleased and faintly disgusted.

Lawrence doesn’t blame her. The stench coming from the room is overwhelming and it burns his throat and eyes. It doesn’t steer him away, though, because what lies beyond the door is all he seems to have left.

It had taken only a little convincing on his part to get here; Lawrence hadn’t had much trouble at all convincing John Kramer that Adam had changed. Lawrence isn’t sure—and he’ll probably never know—why John was so easily swayed when he had been the one to leave Adam to die in the first place. What matters, though, is that Lawrence is standing at this door and he has a promise to keep.

Uneasy on his foot and cane, Lawrence throws all his energy into pulling the door open. It slides with grinding creaks and shuddering groans of metal. The stench seems to billow out and spill into the dim hallway. The room is pitch black, so before entering Lawrence feels around for the switch he remembers.

Before turning on the lights, courtesy in mind, Lawrence speaks. “Adam, I’m about to turn on the lights.” He warns. “It’s probably going to hurt.”

There’s no answer but Lawrence is fairly certain he sees faint movement in the far corner. Taking it as an answer, Lawrence flicks on the lights. They come to life slowly, flickering and fading overhead. There’s a soft yelp and when his eyes finally land on Adam, the man is curled up impossibly small. Adam’s hands are thrown over his face. As he approaches, mindful of the disgusting and slippery floor, Lawrence sadly notes how he can see damn near every bone protruding from Adam’s body.

Adam eventually unfurls and blinks as his eyes adjust. Still squinting, Adam looks up. Lawrence stares down and swallows nervously. He knows they should talk but he can’t possibly find the words as he looks down at the pathetic and sad face of the man he hasn’t stopped thinking about for what feels like ages.

Lawrence himself is weak, but he’s not emaciated like Adam; his bones are not stale and frozen from lack of movement, like Adam’s; his lips are not cracked, dry, nor covered in blood because of a lack of water. Lawrence feels his eyes water and finally moves to retrieve Adam’s freedom from his pocket. Lawrence holds the key out to Adam who only stares at it wearily. Lawrence briefly wonders if Adam can even speak. It hasn’t been more than a month, and Lawrence isn’t sure if Adam has been fed or given water.

Shakily and unbalanced, Lawrence kneels and sets his cane aside. He slips to sit on his ass and does his best to ignore the slimy feel of blood and vomit beneath him. He diligently ignores Zep’s mutilated body. Lawrence reaches for Adam’s ankle, his poor ankle, rubbed raw and bloody and fucking terrible to look at because of the chain.

Lawrence ponders, as he fumbles with the lock and key, why Adam didn’t break his foot, or find a way to free himself. He shoves the thoughts away knowing only dark answers lie there.

Amanda and John are still outside the bathroom, and for a brief second Gordon fears he and Adam will be trapped in here together. Maybe that was the plan all along; it certainly wouldn’t surprise him. And, as he looks up into Adam’s face, Lawrence even remarks to himself that maybe dying beside Adam wouldn’t be so bad.

Diana is gone, Allison is gone. They’re alive but they no longer are Lawrence’s family. He has next to nothing left, aside from Adam.

The chain falls to the bathroom floor with a harsh sound. Adam flinches and Lawrence moves immediately to comfort him. Lawrence presses his firm grip into the shoulder lacking a bullet wound, hoping to give Adam some of his hope, his warmth, his care.

When his eyes fall to the bullet wound, Lawrence has to bite back tears and bile. The wound is deeply infected and he can only imagine Adam’s agony. Adam’s limbs and body are pliant and loose as Lawrence stands and helps Adam to do the same. Lawrence feels barbaric in the way he has to manhandle Adam, who has little to no strength and probably couldn’t walk without the admittedly lame support of the doctor himself.

They hobble out of the room and Amanda pushes the door shut behind them. Gordon lets out a sigh of relief knowing that, at least, he and Adam won’t die in a filthy bathroom. Adam’s head lolls as they walk and Lawrence clings tighter.

The walk to the bathroom had felt achingly slow and tense; at every turn around a corner, Lawrence expected death. As he had opened the door he was almost positive he would see only dead bodies. Now, as they walk back to the workshop and to safety, Lawrence feels giddy and almost high with relief.

He has saved the person he needs most, Adam is _alive_. Lawrence can have a friend, possibly something of a family, again. He can’t stop the shaking, high-pitched sigh of excitement and relief. Amanda makes a derisive noise, but John just smiles. Lawrence, not for the first time in his life, feels immense gratitude towards John Kramer.

)

It’s nearly a week later that Adam finally speaks. He’s on a long bout of bedrest, John and Lawrence both reluctant to have him move for any reason other than a bath. He’s been steadily fed intravenously, with a looped tube pulsing oxygen into his nostrils. Lawrence has sat beside the makeshift hospital bed night by night and day by day watching as color returns to Adam’s complexion and his breathing becomes easier.

It’s three in the morning and Lawrence is asleep in his own bed, one pushed perhaps a bit closer than necessary to Adam’s, when he hears the murmurs of speech. Sleep for Lawrence has been delicate or nonexistent since he walked free from the bathroom, sans one foot. He’s easily woken at all hours by the way the warehouse creaks or the sounds of Amanda speaking, or this or that and just about everything.

As Lawrence wakes up more fully, Adam’s voice seems incredibly loud in the silence of the morning. Lawrence sits up and grabs his cane out of what has quickly become habit. He leans against Adam’s bed for strength. “Adam?” He asks as he trails his fingertips across Adam’s face.

The mumbling grows clearer. Adam coughs and clears his throat—his wince of pain strikes a chord in Lawrence—and then finally speaks. “You came back.”

Lawrence’s eyes widen, leaning back in mild surprise. He nods. “Of course I did.”

Adam heaves something of a bitter laugh. “You say ‘of course’ like I never had any fucking reason to doubt you. I didn’t even really _know_ you man, and somehow I should’ve just know that you were gonna actually come back for me? Shit I pretty much figured you died and didn’t even make it out.”

Lawrence doesn’t react to Adam baiting him, egging him on to get into a shouting match. He replies calmly. “John saved me after he..” Lawrence swallows. “After the game was over. He found me, and he helped me.”

Adam scoffs. “John? Who the fuck is John?” His arms cross, though his whole body strains from the effort.

“He’s the man who put us in the room.” Lawrence replies carefully.  He shushes Adam on instinct before the shouting can begin. To his complete surprise, Adam complies. Adam’s expression is bratty and surly, but he stays quiet. “I know what he did was… unconventional, and horrible.” Lawrence searches for the words as he knows Adam won’t be so quick to see the brilliance of John and see past the pain and suffering.  “I know it’s hard to understand right now,” and damn it all if Lawrence doesn’t feel like he’s speaking to his daughter, telling her how mommy and daddy won’t be together anymore and how she won’t see daddy very often.

“No shit.” Adam replies, deadpan and blunt. “What’s there to understand?”

Lawrence sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “John did what he did to help us. He does this to show people all that they take for granted in this life and to inspire them to change that.” Lawrence can’t meet Adam’s eyes. Adam’s words ring in his head, _we’re both bullshitters_. And despite the fact that Lawrence feels so deeply about everything he’s saying he still feels like a coward and a liar talking to Adam.

Lawrence wishes so intensely that there was some way to say _‘I’m not bullshitting you’_ without sounding like such a teenager. Instead, he carries on speaking.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come get you sooner. I tried, but John wouldn’t allow me to. I needed to heal, and he wanted to test me again—test my loyalty. And I had to convince him that you had changed.” Finally, Lawrence looks up. “I hope you have, because I have no doubt he’s watching us right now. I need you to be honest and tell me if you’ve changed.”

“Changed how?” Adam snaps, though his arms uncross just a bit. He’s relaxing.

“Changed as in you have a better appreciation for life,” Lawrence can hear and feel the way his tone and volume rise. “Changed as in you won’t squander away your life in your shithole apartment stalking others for dirty money.” Adam flinches but Lawrence is undeterred.  “Changed as in maybe you’ll do something amazing with that camera instead of only being a rat in the sewers.”

Lawrence lets out a deep breath. “Changed as in you want to live, and you want to enjoy living.” He concludes, feeling only slightly remorseful about such harsh words.

Adam, for once, does not have a sharp comeback. His arms sink from cross at his chest to limp at his sides. The silence stretches between them, only the sound of the oxygen pumping into Adam lingers in the air.

It’s Adam who breaks the tension.

“How am I supposed to live after this?”

Lawrence instinctively reaches out and brushes the long, dirty hair from Adam’s face. It’s grown and is just dipping into his line of sight. “You can.” He answers. “You are stronger because of this. We both are. We can move forward and appreciate… everything. We can cherish everything. We can both have the lives we always wanted.”

Adam almost instantly bursts into laughter. “That’s so corny, man, fuck.”

Lawrence smiles in spite of it all.

“How do you fucking move on from this?” Adam asks after another brief silence. “You fucking _shot_ me, _you_ lost a god damn foot. _I_ killed some guy. I’m damn near starving to death over here.” Adam’s laugh turns from soft and bitter to hysterical. “We can’t just walk away from this like nothing happened.”

Lawrence shakes his head. “I’m not saying that’s what we do. I’m saying that we take John’s lesson to heart, and live our lives as new people.” Lawrence pulls back from Adam and shakes out the stiffness in his muscles. “I had to beg John to let me come get you, please don’t give him a reason to take you away.”

Adam blushes, which startles Lawrence but also pleases something deep inside him. It rouses something, a beast he long thought dead. Adam looks away with a sheepish grin. He’s obviously trying to fight it down, to wrangle with the emotions and maybe stamp them out.

“I owe you, big time.” Adam concludes.

“You don’t owe me anything.” Lawrence insists. “I don’t want you to feel indebted to me. I don’t want you to feel obligated to be with me, or even speak with me.” The thought of Adam walking out of Lawrence’s life is gut-wrenching but the doctor thinks he could live with it eventually.  “I saved you because I didn’t want you to die; I didn’t think you deserved to die—I _don’t_ think you deserve to die. I saved you because I felt you deserved and wanted to live. Not so you could feel enslaved to me.”

Adam’s laughter bubbles up again. It’s less bitter and far from hysterical. “I don’t have any family left, I haven’t had a girlfriend in years,” Adam shrugs. “If you want me you can have me.”

Lawrence feels a blush of his own rush up his neck and to the apples of his cheeks. The beast inside roars again and he feels animalistic when the words rile him so easily. Adam smirks as though he knows the exact effect he’s having on the doctor—which, he probably _does_ know exactly.

Lawrence again runs his fingers through Adam’s hair. “John will want to talk to you when you’re ready.” He says gently. “He’s harmless, really.” Adam snorts but leans into the touch. “You can probably eat real food soon.”

Adam just nods, his eyes drooping shut. “Tomorrow.”

Lawrence doesn’t bother correcting him—it’s now verging on four a.m.—there’s no sense in semantics. He nods and pats the side of Adam’s face. “I’ll be right there,” he gestures to his own bed. “If you need anything, just say so.”

Adam nods again though he’s already beginning to doze off. Lawrence’s lips quirk into a grin and he stands. His legs shake in protest but his heart and mind feel higher than ever. His emotions are soaring and he can’t calm his delightfully racing heart. It’s a quick walk to his bed and he collapses into it easily.

He knows going forward won’t be easy, despite the confidence he tried so hard to convey to Adam. The road ahead is going to be long and treacherous and full of the worst hurt imaginable. But, as Lawrence pulls the blankets to his chin and rests on his side so he can watch Adam breathe, it will be all the more worth it in the end.

)

Adam wakes before Lawrence and feels like his bones are going to crawl out of his skin. Despite the heartfelt conversation of the night previous, Adam no longer feels reassured or saved. He feels trapped, trapped by the oxygen tube around him and the guardrails along the sides of his bed; the closed doors and lack of windows don’t help and Adam begins to fidget restlessly.

Every time he blinks his mind takes him back to the bathroom—to the stench of rotting flesh and his own vomit and urine and feces. Adam gags in the present on the smell that no longer exists. The darkness, though only in his mind, is closing in on him. It’s suffocating him. There’s nowhere to go and he is still trapped.

His ankle aches suddenly and Adam lurches towards the pain. His rips away the blanket and hikes up his pant leg expecting to find the same rusted, heavy lock around him. Instead, there are only bandages. While it breaks the panicked delusion, it doesn’t free him from the darkness quite yet.

Adam pushes until the guardrail sinks and he’s able to get off the bed. He yanks off the oxygen tube to stand. His legs are weak, his muscles somewhat atrophied. He hobbles and stumbles and slides and slips his way to the door. His mind is racing endlessly. What if this is all an elaborate trap? What if, when he walks out that door, he’ll set off a new timer and a new game? What if—what was his name? John, _John_ is out there holding a shotgun, ready to blow Adam’s brains out?

He reaches the door eventually and presses himself to the cool surface. At first he relaxes into the soothing chill on his fevered body. But when Adam pushes at the doors, he finds them locked. He doesn’t scream though that’s his first instinct. His hands are pressed flat against the door and he continues to push half-heartedly to no avail. He stares at his hands.

_I’ll tell you where you might be. You might be in the room that you die in._

Adam reels back from the door; the words sound so _loud_ , so _close_ , so _real_. His hands come to grasp at his head, covering his ears, as though he can block out a voice that’s only in his head. He can feel pathetic whimpers rising in his throat and he can’t breathe. His mind is both racing and slow as the air in the room feels too thick to take in.

Adam does scream when strong arms wrap around him. They are silent but they guide him back to his bed. Adam is helped to sit, and the oxygen tube is placed once again around his head. The cool oxygen makes him lightheaded. Adam’s vision still blurs and his heart is still pounding dangerously fast. He sways where he sits until the arms from before steady him.

“Adam, Adam stay with me.”

He blinks and turns to the voice, the one that is actually very real indeed. Lawrence is staring with concern back at him. Lawrence’s eyes are still crusted with sleep but he looks almost more panicked than Adam had felt.

Adam wants to say something, to explain his fear and panic and how in every other moment it feels like the walls are closing in.

Instead, he faints.

)

When he wakes, the doors from before are open and the lights overhead seem brighter—as though the bulbs have been changed. Adam tries to move but feels various tugs at his skin. Panic rises briefly, thinking it another trap, before he realizes he’s simply hooked up to a heart rate monitor and IV. He calms, but only just.

Lawrence stands beside the bed, scribbling at a clipboard. Despite the overall dingy appearance of the room and the situation at hand, Adam can see the doctor in Lawrence. He can see the education and power that Lawrence holds as a surgeon. It’s almost sort of enticing, to see something so real and strong in a sea of the disaster around him. Adam finds himself unable to look away and unable to care about it.

Lawrence finally looks up from the clipboard. “You’re awake.”

His throat feels dry and scratchy, so Adam just nods. As he approaches, Lawrence snags a cup of water from the bedside table. He offers it to Adam, helping the straw land on the kid’s dry lips. Adam drinks deeply.

“You had me worried.” Lawrence murmurs.

Adam looks up after he feels satisfied. “I..” He can’t find the words.

“Claustrophobia isn’t an odd fear to have after what happened.” Lawrence explains. “Had I not been able to free myself, I’m sure I would have it just as bad.” Lawrence’s hands seem to falter once he’s set the cup away. He wants to hold Adam, touch him in a reassuring way but he doesn’t want to be inappropriate.

Adam quirks his head. “How did you know?” He asks.

“You were mumbling as I carried you, and in your sleep.” The doctor replies. “Even if most of it was gibberish, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots.” Lawrence settles for, as he did before, running his fingers through Adam’s hair. It works exceptionally well at putting Adam at ease. “We kept the door locked because we didn’t want you to run off and get hurt. There are a lot of traps in this building, to protect John’s work, and us. If you took a wrong turn trying to escape, you could’ve died far too easily.”

Adam nods slowly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should’ve seen the claustrophobia coming. I should’ve known.” Lawrence looks away. “I didn’t think you’d even be able to walk, so honestly I didn’t think you’d even try to move from the bed. But fear, and panic… they’re very good motivators.”

Adam, though he feels like he should respond in kind in some way, simply sinks deeper into the pillows that support him. He relaxes as best he can.

Lawrence continues to scratch softly at Adam’s scalp, tender presses of his fingertips. Adam seems to melt into the touch. Lawrence smirks as Adam drifts again. He’s so young and so predictable. It’s endearing if a little off-putting. Marriage has made Lawrence romantically stale, and he knows it. But he feels like Adam could bring some life back into him, just as he did the conversation before—riling that beast inside.

“When do I get to meet John?” Adam asks softly, nearly a pleasant purr.

“Soon, when you’re ready and when he’s up for it.” Lawrence doesn’t pull back even as his arm grows tired. “John is very sick, he’s growing weaker.” Lawrence toys with the idea of telling Adam the deal in place, of how Lawrence will help to carry on the Jigsaw legacy. He settles for telling Adam later, when the kid can better understand.

A silence stretches between them again but it lacks the tension either anticipated. “Why did you save me?” Adam asks. “I know.. I know what you said last night.” Adam adds, before Lawrence can answer. “But why did you—do you care so much? I’m just some prick. I’m a stupid kid. I could’ve died in that shithole and no one would’ve missed me.” Adam shrugs. “You and I were nothing to each other.”

Lawrence bristles. “At first we were nothing, but that changed. You can’t deny that, Adam.” Lawrence pulls back and Adam meets his gaze dead on. “What happened in that bathroom changed both of us. It connected us. No one else can every truly understand what we went through. Not even Amanda, who survived Jigsaw as well. You and I are the only survivors of our game, and that is a strong bond.”

Adam flushes pink again but doesn’t look away.

“As I crawled through that damn hallway, trying to find my way out, all I could think about was you. I thought about Allison and Diania, too, of course. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the regret, how much I hated leaving you behind. Because you didn’t deserve to die and because you learned your lesson just as I did. When John rescued me, when Allison served me the divorce papers, you became the sole thing on my mind. It was only a month but it felt like an eternity.

“I didn’t know if I’d be able to come back for you, John seemed intent on stopping me at every turn. So I mourned you, I regretted leaving you behind. It was only a month but it felt like years. It was like losing a loved one.” Lawrence pushes his own hair back. “I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

Adam swallows nervous and noisily.

“I know that you may not feel the same way, not now and maybe not ever, but I can rest easy knowing you are safe. I wouldn’t have been able to live my life knowing I left you to die. So you don’t have to talk to me, or associate with me, or have anything to do with me. I would like it if you did, but I won’t force you, just as I said last night.”

Lawrence reaches out and grasps Adam by the chin, forcing their eyes to meet again. “And if you do want to stay with me, I will reassure you every day and night that I am in this for the long haul. I am in this for you, all of you, even the parts you think are worthless.”

Adam blinks rapidly. “You, you fuck. You’re gonna make me cry.” His voice cracks and gives him away.

Both men dissolve into soft laughter.

“This is surreal, you know that, right?” Adam proposes. “We get kidnapped, you cut off your foot, and now you’re in love with me?”

“I never said that.” Lawrence retorts with a blatant tone of teasing.

“You care for me deeply, whatever, same thing.” Adam shrugs. “The weirdest part is that I think… I think I could be okay with this too.” Adam closes his eyes. “I know I would like you to be in my life.” He nods, eyes still closed. “I don’t know if I would say I love you.” Adam opens his eyes, “but it could happen.”

Lawrence grins. “You know what you are, Adam?”

“Hm?”

“A fucking sap.”

Adam bursts into laughter again, curling forward from the force of it. As he laughs, he feels better than he has in months, years maybe even. He feels hopeful and he feels clean. He feels less like the scum of the earth and more… normal. Happy. “You suck, man.”

Lawrence smiles back. “I know.” He nods. He drops a hand to Adam’s side, finding Adam’s own hand and holding it tight. “Thank you.”

Adam laughs still, “thank _you_ , you fucking weirdo.” But Adam understands the sentiment. Adam understands that Lawrence is most likely just as alone now as Adam. They can afford to depend on one another. Everything Lawrence said is painfully true, but Adam thinks he doesn’t mind it so much.

)

Months pass. Many, many months pass. Adam takes longer to heal than expected—or, well, rather, longer than Lawrence had hoped. It takes almost a frighteningly long time for Adam to recover. Adam gains the weight he needs slowly, and it takes many long walks for his leg muscles to rebuild and strengthen.

The bullet wound in Adam’s shoulder which was once a deep and enflamed red had healed fairly well. The scar was a stark pink against Adam’s pale skin. The scar tissue traveled outwards from the wound, running in vein-like paths over Adam’s shoulder and chest. This had taken the longest to heal, because of how long it went untreated. There was definite nerve damage, and Adam’s right arm would never work quite the same again. Despite all of Lawrence’s apologies, Adam swears he doesn’t mind. He’s always been ambidextrous anyways.

Eventually, though, both men are mostly whole again. Adam can walk, talk, live, and breathe all on his own. Lawrence, though he was already stronger to begin with, grew stronger still. John created a prosthetic foot for the doctor, and even created a beautiful and finely detailed cane for him.

It’s almost eight months after rescuing Adam that the two men leave the warehouse. It’s unnerving in its own way; staying in the warehouse for so long had begun to feel like home. For Adam and Lawrence both, leaving the warehouse felt like leaving safety and seclusion. But, they both knew it was necessary. Unlike Amanda, they couldn’t stay there forever.

The first stop they make after they’re free is Adam’s old apartment. It’s being rented by someone else, but the landlord hadn’t thrown quite everything of Adam’s away. His camera remained, as did some of his clothes and other small possessions. Adam gathers them all in a bag and slips the camera around his neck. The landlord is sour—he was probably intending to sell the camera for a decent sum, but some stern words from Lawrence, such as _lawyer_ and _sue you_ persuaded him otherwise.

After collecting Adam’s things, they return to the cab they had taken earlier. Lawrence gives the driver an address Adam doesn’t recognize and they begin to move.

Adam speaks up. “I can’t believe my landlord believed you.”

Lawrence laughs heartily. “He isn’t exactly of stellar intellect.”

Adam concedes with a wordless shrug and smile. Eventually, he asks, “where are we going?”

“To our home.” Lawrence answers, sincere but cryptic.

Adam’s face contorts in only slightly amused confusion. “Care to elaborate?” He shifts a bit nervously. “Are we seriously going back to the place you lived in with your _wife_ and _daughter_?” He asks, incredulous.

Lawrence shoots Adam a ghastly look. “No, oh god no.” Lawrence reaches out and links their fingers. “John helped me to set up a new place. Something smaller and much quieter. Something just for the two of us.” Lawrence smiles at Adam. “It will be our home. Just ours. I promise.”

Adam, a bit embarrassed, nods. “Okay.”

)

The apartment is considerably larger than Adam’s old one, but definitely a large step down from Lawrence’s old home. Adam feels his heart swell with eager nervousness as they walk inside.

All of Lawrence’s things seemed to already be moved in. All that remains is the small bag of Adam’s belongings. It doesn’t take long for these to be put away and once it’s taken care of, the two men face each other in awkward silence.

Adam searches frantically for words inside his mind—what the fuck, exactly, do you say to the man who is both the reason you got trapped in a bathroom, left behind in said bathroom, _saved_ from the god damn bathroom, and now the man who evidently _loves_ you or some shit? It’s not really a situation Adam ever saw himself getting into.

“We’ll need to take you shopping.” Lawrence breaks the silence and the tension by meandering over to the couch. “You need new clothes.”

Adam follows suit and sits at the other end of the couch. “I don’t have any money,” he says though he’s got a good idea of who is going to be bringing home the bacon for a while.

“I do, I have plenty. It will be fine.” Lawrence scoots infinitely closer and Adam doesn’t mind at all. “So, the apartment,” Lawrence trails off. “There’s a room for your photography, you can set it up as you like. There’s a spare bed in the bedroom, I don’t mind taking that if you would like the main bed.”

“Why separate beds?” Adam asks with a laugh. He’s agreed to live with a potentially dangerous or crazed man on the promise of love and care. Two beds seem silly.

“I told you, you don’t owe me anything. If you don’t want to share a bed, you have a comfortable alternative. I wasn’t going to make you sleep on the couch and I certainly wasn’t going to sleep on the couch. So, two beds.” Lawrence explains like it’s the most obvious thing.

Adam, though he wants to mock Lawrence for the sappy bullshit, feels genuinely at ease by his words. So instead of some snarky biting remark or witty tease, Adam simply says, “thanks, dude.”

Lawrence groans. “Please don’t call me dude.”

That sparks a laugh in Adam, one that quickly infects the doctor as well. They both fall to laughter against each other on the couch. It’s closer than Adam’s been to another person without feeling pressured or nervous or tense. Laughing with Lawrence on a couch, _their couch in their home_ , feels like the easiest thing in the world.

As Adam watches Lawrence bellow out laughs, he thinks that this might actually work out. Everything, despite all odds and everything that has happened to them, might actually turn out just fine.


End file.
